


to walk a line

by barakei



Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/M, Ficlet Collection, M/M, Multi, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-29
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-16 14:13:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/862934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barakei/pseuds/barakei
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Here they are a series of drabbles, fanfic and oneshot, of various subjects and genre, only approximately following the rules of the BigDamnTable, translated from my Italian collection . Main character: Sagittarius Aiolos.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. no colours

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [to walk a line](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/23936) by barakei. 



020: No colours.

Characters: Sagittarius Aiolos, (not yet) Gemini Kanon.

Rating: green!

Words: 822

Note: hypothetical “at the same moment”

 

 

 

I feel the burden of my own body pressing me to the ground. This is the only thing I can feel.

 

I feel the burden of my own body, pressed by water’s pressure.

 

My eyesight is fading away. He left me here, alone. I still was alive, but he went away ignoring my destiny. I, the Saint.

 

What my eyes can see is only water, it comes hunting me up from every way, menacing. It sinks me down. He left me, leaving me alone with my destiny. I, the Damned.

 

Little by little, every small sensations disappear. My body slowly begins to feel slight. On the ground it rests still, yet it seems to me as I can hover up above, so light. Laying on a cloud that floats who knows where. Beneath me the cold ground. It is so cold, or is it me losing every piece of warmth?

 

Little by little, every small sensations disappear. Swallowed up by this whirlpool , I do not want to sink, not yet. I do not want to drown. Yet, my body becomes more and more tough. It is attracted by that dark bottom against my will. It is so cold. My body, soaked in water it feels cold.

 

Sunset has come, and the sun dies gradually down the sky. I do die along with it. This weak beam at the corners of my eyes is the last radiance of the day. It sucks life up, surrendering to night. To death. And it is right like this. But after, what’s there gonna be?

 

Sunset has come. I did not believe water to be so dark, when it covers you up and imprison.  Incandescent off and on beams graze its surface on, it is the dying light of the sun. I do die along with it. And after that, what’s there gonna be?

 

He left me here, all alone. But I still was alive, maybe I could have had a chance to survive? And she, how is she now? Is she still crying, is she still afraid? And that old man, is he up to this task? I cannot know, but if gods put him on my way, if they chose him to take my place, he should be the one. He must. He must protect her. Save her. I cannot do it anymore.

 

He left me here, all alone. He has been my judge and sentenced me to death. At the mercy of the tide, indifferent to my own struggle. To survive. And he, has he finally gave in to his own demon? Has he realized his true nature? If only there was me at his place, things would have been so different for the both of us.  Instead, all I have is damnation. Only to me, this damnation.

 

He is just a man. How can he protect her? Just a man, and an old one. A stranger to everything I know and care. I could watch his wide open yes, full of confusion as I told him what I saw and went through, that man trying to get answers anon, that only time can give him, maybe. Because I cannot, I cannot do it anymore.

 

He is just a man, after all. So fragile, more than he can say himself. So fragile and so scared by the very himself, as no one could ever suspect of him to. His wide open eyes so full of rage, trying to get answers anon, that only time can give him, maybe. Running from those answers which only he guards. Because I’ve tried, but he did not believe me.

 

The dying sun sucks my shadow towards the cold, hollow land of death. That man, alone. With her. She’s so important, so unarmed. And he? Have he really given in to his secret evil? Is he trying to hurt her again?

 

The dying sun, climbing water that swallows my life away. That man. My brother. Will he fulfil my revenge?

 

He took away my cloth. One gold cloth, shall it be enough for her protection?

 

He took away my ambitions. Adorned in his beautiful shining gold cloth.

 

What if this isn’t enough?

 

What if he isn’t able to succeed?

 

That man, he is just a man. The cloth is empty.

 

That man, my brother. He is such a weak. And he is alone.

 

Athena. I must protect her. That’s my mission, my destiny.

 

Athena. I should have killed her. He won’t be able to.

 

Athena. I cannot abandon her. No, I cannot.

 

Athena. Have you condemned me as he did?

 

Athena!

 

Ahtena!

 

My cosmo will not die, I shall make it overcome death itself. For her!

 

This gentle source of light breaking my prison’s wall, is that you?

 

Athena, I leave here my body. From now on, I shall inhabit another one. My cloth!

 

Athena, a trident, a vase, a seal!

 

It is not over yet!


	2. broken

071: Broken  
Words: 552  
Characters: Shura, Death Mask, a bit of Aphrodite  
Note: the other character is not a Gemini

“It has cracked! Look at it, look at the crack!”  
“Break it off! You’re not a baby anymore!”  
“It has cracked… my soul has…”  
“Why are you crying, little one?”  
Fragile. A little creature, too small, too fragile. Crouched against the ruin, left alone to himself and his dusty loneliness. Head in his hands.  
And he cries.  
“Why are you crying, little one?”  
Frightened open eyes, startled by the doubt of not being worthy. Open, black eyes watered of tears. Pulsing his lips, he is a too fragile creature.  
“I cannot hear the voice of heavens. The others can. Why?”  
He cries.  
“Tell me, how do you think this voice can be heard?”  
The voice of heavens will indicate you what your own path is. Don’t fear, you will hear it and know what destiny awaits you.  
His best friends told him so:  
“Well! It’s up to me to be the very last guide to spirits and the like!”  
“I’ll pave with petals and beautiful roses rocky paths!”  
And I?  
He cries, the little warrior. The novice saint, Shura.  
“I don’t know! I can’t hear it!”  
“Take my hand”  
The kid trusts him, and those green-blue eyes so warm and fraternal.  
Shura trusts him.  
“Hold my hand, with all your strength!”  
The kid does it, because he –Shura- trusts him. He believes him. The boy’s grab is secure, warm and immense just like the look in his eyes.  
“Now tell me, what do you feel?”  
“I feel your hand grabbing mine, and I feel… I feel your cosmos!”  
From his corvine black eyes no more tears are falling. His lips don’t break in smile, not yet. But they are not trembling anymore.  
“Tell me, how can you feel my cosmos, Shura?”  
“I don’t know. I don’t know.. I feel it inside of me, that’s it!”  
“Tell me, Shura. How can you feel my cosmos?”  
“I don’t know. I feel it. It’s like a shake right inside my heart. It is so strong, yet so… gentle, it makes my heart shakes! And I feel it!”  
“So you will hear the voice of heaves, my little one.”  
“And what will it tell me?”  
The hand grabs his, and his golden cosmos streams into his arm. And a whistling rises, something that slices through the air in a white invisible whistle. He can hear it, right inside his fierce soul. He can finally hear it, echoing in his soul, little fierce saint. Shura.  
“The voice of heaves, I have heard it! In my arm dwells the holy sword with whom Athena and the right I will protect!”  
He is the first one Shura wants to entrust it to.  
“Excalibur, its name, Shura. Excalibur that rests in your arm, when it needed you will rise it to protect Athena and the right. It is your own soul, Shura. Take care of it.”  
“It’s cracked! Look at the crack! I rose it, high in the sky, it whistled in the vacuum air, I dropped it on him… and now, look at it! Look at this crack!”  
A dull terror ground his heart, Shura asks his friend to deny the truth.  
Words he cannot hear, not yet. Not from him  
A voice he cannot hear. Nor inside of him, nor outside. No more.  
He.  
“My soul is broken.”


	3. beginnings

001\. Beginnings  
words: 192  
characters: Sagittarius Aiolos, Gemini Kanon, Gemini Saga  
Note: well, my main pairing is Aiolos*Kanon, in these drabbles (or short fic, ficlet) you gonna read always soft approaches, I swear! If there's going to be something more *adult* I will warn (XD) you, of course!

 

"Here is my brother, Kanon."  
Two perfect drops. Such a perfect image to one another, your eyes fears to be fooled by them. Nevertheless, the ruffles are so evident. These eyes, such deep blue eyes you watch for the very first time. They are darkened in such a bitter light of despair.  
The ruffles, on his surface.  
His lips curving in repulsion. The first greeting he gives you is a sharp grimace.  
Ruffles, or imperfections? They emerge only because he is standing close to his perfect twin, Saga. Who's now perfect once again.  
But are they really imperfections, these ruffles you see on his surface?  
Are not they so alike the waves, these ruffles?  
And the waves, which sail across the sea in their pure white spume, are not they just a part of that blue sea you would sit and gaze at, for hours and hours, once?  
Just a part of the sea.  
All this gives you an instant of hesitation. Then.  
"I am glad to meet you."  
You reach out your hand towards him, still amazed facing both of them.  
Nevertheless, you smile gently, always true.  
"My name is Aiolos."


	4. Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My poor English is so rusty, shame on me!  
> Please, let me know if there are mistakes, nonsense pharses or anything worng! >.

Characters: Sagittarius Aiolos, Mitsumasa Kido

Rating: green!

Words: 482

 

030: Death

 

A darkened room.  
Low, shy voices enumerate attentions, count down hours, few, left to the man.  
A darkened room, a body placidly laying on a big bed.  
Snow-white hands hold his life. Warm tears, so fond, cry the very end.  
Bonds break, ineluctably. Even those created by fate.  
A figure, standing by the bed.  
An immaculate look in his eyes, crossed by trails of sadness. A trace of bitter seriousness.  
Obliged, yet critical. Amiable, yet aloof.  
The look of a saint.  
“Doesn’t she know you are here now?”  
“No.”  
“Why don’t you let her know you’re here?”  
“Because this is a moment of her own.”  
“No, it’s because of me.”  
“You’re dying.”  
“I know.”  
“Aren’t you afraid of it?”  
“Should I?”  
“Yes, you should.”  
“For my sins?”  
“No. Because it scares. It scares every man.”  
“She’s safe.”  
“I’ll be watching over her.”  
“I know.”  
“But I can’t approve what you did. Neither would she.”  
“It’s for her, for her sake.”  
“She would have not accepted it. So many lives, too many. And you chose for them an atrocious fate.”  
“It’s for her, for her sake.”  
A darkened room.  
A life is fading away, not even a goddess can avert it.  
She’s confused, the little goddess. From her eyes plentiful tears are cried, but those are not wept to satisfy a whim. They are the salted drops spurted from the deep source of sorrow. A human sorrow. The pain of losing someone. She’s confused, the little goddess.  
And he feels it.  
“Was you afraid?”  
“I was, as it scares. It scares every man.”  
“I don’t know if I did well, but I did it for her.”  
“I know.”  
Truth has just been revealed, even though it was long known in everybody’s heart. A truth that can’t surprise, but which scares a little. Each of them.  
Him, too.  
His look softens.  
In the very moment of death, eyes wide open are searching for an hold. Any hold. To stay a little longer. And he now has pity on him: as many mistakes he made, he now is only a man who’s dying. The burden of his just revealed secret will accompany him after death, indeed.  
And now, he feels only pity for him.  
Maybe, his look was the same: in that never forgotten moment, a moment so far and close at the same time, his eyes were wide open, full of terror. Just like the eyes of this old man dying.  
Snow-.white hands trembling.  
The faithful servant’s eyes fill up with tears.  
It’s the end.  
He is still there, standing by that bed, while life has just gone.  
A silent presence, that judges any more.  
A hand, ethereal, rises in the vacuum air in front of him. And it rests on those eyes. To close them.  
And in his look, hard and detached, amiable and sad, the look of a saint: there’s only pity.


	5. Hearing

Characters: Sagittarius Aiolos, Saori Kido

Rating: green!

Words: 354

 

037: Hearing

 

He and I. We run.  
We both run, although I am but a voice which accompanies the rush, desperate already, of this youth.  
I know very little about him. I can merely sight the breathless traits of his face. It is petrified into a mask of effort.  
I don’t know anything about him. I just know his name, for the stars whisper it within my soul, sweetly. Like a lullaby.  
It’s a desperate rush the one of his. Of ours.  
For the sample fact that the night which is witnessing us, fugitives and exiled, this stars lacking night is going straight into its eternal oblivion. Sucked in by light’s shadow. His own light.  
I can feel the tiredness of this youth. I feel it even though the arms holding me to his chest are strong. Firm.  
The arms of a father. Of a brother.  
He runs. He has never stopped, not even for a single instant. He has never turned over. He did not say goodbye. He runs. Desperate. Sure. He runs.  
So many raging hours of this rush. It’s been broken only by fugacious encounters. Some ordinary, unaware souls tried to stop him. I felt they were inimical to him, but only for obedience.  
Yet, he had to face them, solitary.  
Even then, when he had to fight, he kept on holding me, strongly. He held me so close to his chest, and I listened to the anguished heart of this youth.  
It don’t stop beating, not yet.  
As he don’t stop running, not yet.  
After all, I am but a voice within his mind, by his side.  
I can’t but keep on listening to his heart beating. Tightened by his protective arms. And he runs, this youth, even though his shoulders bear the whole, inexorable, burden of the world itself.  
In hi arms my light burden.  
He runs, despite the wounds.  
Despite the careful, sharp cut of the legendary blade, that with sad nonchalance a friendly hand dropped upon him.  
He runs, and holds me so tight, I can feel his warmth, the beating of his young heart.  
It’s beating anymore.


	6. Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Number 064 from my Big Damn Table

Characters: Sagittarius Aiolos, Gemini Kanon, Gemini Saga  
Rating: green  
Note: in Japanese Zen, “aware” indicates a moment, usually connected with Autumn season and dispersing of the world, that evokes the most intense nostalgic sadness. This is a three characters’ unique moment  
Disclaimer: Saint Seiya does not belong to me, of course.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

064: Fall; “aware” - Saga   
Caress, the memory of a time gone, by now.  
Look careful at it: the truth hidden in a lie, unveiled by now.  
From a remote corner of your desolate temple, so empty: look careful at it.  
Sea breeze turns into a cold wind, by now.  
Dull leaves, decorated with warm colours, are beaten, thrown here and there by that wind.  
Cold shivers shake your body, it feels like a dead touch.  
While you watch them, walking close side by side, seeking warmth from their wrapped bodies, you remember it: that time by his side.   
It is no more.  
It doesn’t belong to you, anymore.  
Now, it is of his own.  
Together with the leaves, inevitably torn from the trees by this cold wind, the memory of a time gone, by now, flies away from you.

 

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

064: Fall; “aware” - Kanon  
Caress, the memory of a time gone, by now.  
Look careful at it: the truth you, with useless obstinacy, opposed.  
Look careful at it: sea breeze turns into a cold wind, by now.  
Dull leaves, decorated with warm colours, are beaten, thrown here and there by that wind.  
Remember it: there was a time when, together with those leaves, a gelid wind would tear from your body the remains of warmth. It left you, defenceless and lonely, down to the ground to rot like those leaves.  
While you watch them -those leaves- , violent and impudent memories emerge within yourself.   
Yet now, this wind is not that cold anymore.  
And leaves don’t look that sad, past companions of a lifetime gone, by now.  
Now that your body finds haven and warmth, close to his side.

-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

064: Fall; “aware” - Aiolos  
Caress, the memory of a time gone, by now.  
Look careful at it: the crystal clear truth, tearing like Autumns’ cloudless sky.  
Look careful at it: sea breeze turns into a cold wind, by now.  
Dull leaves, decorated with warm colours, are beaten, thrown here and there by that wind.  
And you know: the one who’s paying the highest price for this is him.  
From a remote corner of a desolate temple, so empty, you can feel it: his eyes, full of tears, reaching you this far.  
Remember it: there was a time when you would dry those tears with soft kisses.   
Yet now, this is but a thought, light rustling like a distant blurred memory.  
It feels just like a leaf torn down by this indifferent cold wind.  
Now that you don’t care of him anymore.  
Now that, by your side, the body seeking warmth from you is his own.  
Now that there is him with you.


	7. 025: Strangers

**Characters:** Sagittarius Aiolos, Leo Aiolia, Scorpio Milo, Aquarius Camus, Gemini Saga

**Rating:** green

**_-_-__-_-__-_-__-_-__-_-__-_-__-_-__-_-__-_-__-_-__-_-__-_-_**

**025 Strangers**.

 

 

Too much small the bed, to give hospitality to three little people.

“Me too! Me too!”

It’s not worthy of a Saint of the Goddess, this yield.

But it’s impossible. One cannot simply be that unmoved in front of those big beseeching blue eyes, sprightly despite the clear weariness hanging upon them.

The short arms stretching out. To him.

“That’s it, ok.”

He gives up, the holy warrior of the Goddess Athena.

Rise me up!

Sagittarius Aiolos, just entitled as the guardian of the infant Athena; he’s now just babysitting three of his fellow gold saints.

In his bed, curled up Aquarius Camus is sleeping blissfully already.

Another little warrior, long golden hair ruffled into soft curls, has claimed his place. Right in the arms of the ninth Shrine’s protector; Scorpio Milo has made himself very comfortable.

And already in his arms Aiolos is nursing his little brother. The same blood and the same Cosmos.

It’s not worthy of a saint of the Goddess to be this naughty,

But once one takes off their cloth, they are back to be just children.

Such a light weight upon Aiolos’ big strong shoulders.

Leo Aiolia, with his fingers kneading among Aiolos’ curly hair.

“You really can’t fall asleep without doing it, can you?”

Turns and turns again, a single curly lock in his chubby finger, little Aiolia.

“Can I put both of you down, now?”

“I’m not sleepy” mews the little cub. Half closed eyes struggling against their too stubborn owner who doesn’t want to give in. Fingers among Aiolos’ hair.

Milo begins to snore.

Slowly, Aiolos lays him down beside his brotherly friend, Aquarius Camus.

The little Scorpio, in the sleep he has just sunk, pulls the French close to him and Camus at once presses his lips in a strict line.

A nervous motion that betrays a kind of awkwardness Aiolos has already noted in the little Aquarius, every time Milo clings to him when he wants to show his compulsive affection.

Trembling eyelids, Aquarius Camus.

“Come on, time to go to bed.”

“No, not… I… I’m not… sleepy.”

“Yeah, I can see that.”

Leo Aiolia doesn’t want to have anything with that, crouched in Aiolos’ arms. One of his fingers is ringed with amber-colored curls; it turns and turns around them.

He doesn’t even realize when Aiolos gently lays him down, beside Milo who still clings firmly on Camus’ arm. His face relaxes more and more, serener now Aquarius Camus, chick to chick with his best friend, Scorpio Milo.

“It looks like that’s too much small a bed for three.”

“You scared me!”

On the threshold of the open door, like a ghost who has come from nowhere.

“What are you doing there? Come on, get in.”

Shuffles his feet, Gemini Saga.

Trudging each step like he has a dead weight tied at his ankles.

Glancing over his friend, he watches his fellows gold saints, happily asleep. Simple children now. Like nothing has happened. Because they do not know.

“Is your bed always this crowded?”

Smiles kindly at him, Sagittarius Aiolos.

Because he does not know, as well.

“I found Camus already asleep, Milo and Aiolia challenged themselves to who was to stay awake longer. I was supposed to be their referee. But they both caved in together.”

I’ve just put my own brother to death. Do you know it, Aiolos?

By now, Kanon would be…

My only brother.

I’ve repudiated him

A stranger.

He to me.

I to him.

A traitor.

A murderer.

I to him.

And you, instead, have so many brothers you take care of, with equal affection.

“Why don’t you join us?”

“Brother?”

Sitting upright in middle of the bed, a half-closed eye and the other barely open. A vague, dulled look in his eyes groping for him. He’s sure he will find him by his side, always. Leo Aiolia doesn’t want to give in to sleep, even if that childish bet is already won.

Rise me up! In your arms!

It’s not worthy of a saint of the Goddess to be this naughty.

But those short arms stretched towards him are asking for this.

It’s not worthy of a saint of the Goddess this yield.

But Aiolos takes his baby brother in his arms, and begins to gently rock his body in a silent lullaby. The curly locks of the master again ringed among the chubby fingers of the pupil.

“I’m tired, so very tired. I don’t feel like sleeping on a chair, my friend.”

“You don’t have. Look, there’s a camp-bed I’m keeping it ready on purpose, because these little three intruders do not want to have anything to do in leaving my bed. Every night always the same. Please, stay.”

That bet, just a pretext. One among many. Aiolos’ bed, the ninth Shrine, his guardian: a Sanctuary in the Sanctuary. So safe and cozy.

I’ve just put my own brother to death. Do you know it, Aiolos?

Do not offer to someone such as me the shelter that is your house. Do not be pitiless with me showing me all the love you are capable to give.

I, instead, am not able with.

Do not offend my heart showing me your tenderness.

Kanon would be dead by now.

“I’m tired. I’m so very tired, my friend.”

 

 


End file.
